


Sing me to sleep

by IsisKitsune



Category: Original Work
Genre: Background Character Death, Background Het, Character Death, Childbirth, Death in Childbirth, Gen, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Loss, Loss of Parent(s), Mentions of Cancer, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Past Character Death, Pregnancy, Supernatural Elements, Unplanned Pregnancy, mention overdose background character, mentions of mental health issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 10:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20740718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsisKitsune/pseuds/IsisKitsune
Summary: My mother use to tell me old stories. Not just the basic knights and princesses, fairy tales, family stories... Her mother talking with her great grandfather, smiling and laughing with him about things. The man had died before she'd been born. He was just, a face in the family photos to her and she would sit there and have full blown conversations, in German, with the man. No one in the family knew German, she'd say “Great Grampa taught me” when asked. He'd died in the war, he'd died and left his wife with 3 young children back in America, fighting the Germans. Landmine, or so they claimed, grandma had apparently said otherwise, but, I guess a kid is too young to know things like that. “Our family and Death, we go way back. Not all of us have the gift, but it's a common thing in our family.” Mom had good days and bad ones. She, sometimes, would just zone out for a bit and suddenly blink tears away, shaking her head and smiling and going back to tasks.





	Sing me to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> *idea cropped up outa nowhere, thought I should put it down and decided to post my first OS on ao3. I tried to be as NON gender descript of the OC as possible, though Others do presume female pronouns. Gender is intended to be left for interpretation.

My mother use to tell me old stories. Not just the basic knights and princesses, fairy tales, family stories... Her mother talking with her great grandfather, smiling and laughing with him about things. The man had died before she'd been born. He was just, a face in the family photos to her and she would sit there and have full blown conversations, in German, with the man. No one in the family knew German, she'd say “Great Grampa taught me” when asked. He'd died in the war, he'd died and left his wife with 3 young children back in America, fighting the Germans. Landmine, or so they claimed, grandma had apparently said otherwise, but, I guess a kid is too young to know things like that. “Our family and Death, we go way back. Not all of us have the gift, but it's a common thing in our family.” Mom had good days and bad ones. She, sometimes, would just zone out for a bit and suddenly blink tears away, shaking her head and smiling and going back to tasks.

She sang louder when those moments happened. I brought it up once, just once, asking her what she was singing all the time. She, didn't look happy, she looked, worried. “Nothing, sweety, don't- don't pay attention to the singing, okay?”

“Okay, mommy,” I couldn't remember how young I was, but I held up the orange I wanted with breakfast and smiled and laughed like a happy little kid. I smiled as she got me a piece of orange before waiting at the table as she finished peeling the rest and setting it on my plate.

I never asked why Dad sang so loud, all the time; it didn't start that way, but it ended that way. If I listened hard enough, I could hear him singing all the way down the block, I always knew when he was coming home... He just, sang so loud- it was so, sad and beautiful. I messed up once, asking him why he didn't sing that way when he was in a happy mood in the morning. Other than the constant background, when he sang words... Mom always nudged him and told him he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. I didn't understand, must have been because he was actually speaking then, not just that humming song that kept getting so loud.

I remember being put to bed, settling in for the night, excited about something happening at school in the morning, and hearing Dad singing so loud. I never heard him sing so loud. I jumped up and rushed down the hall, wanting a goodnight hug, I stopped, the singing had stopped. Mom had jumped up from the couch at the sudden screeching of tires and loud crash, I remember her scooping me up and checking the window. “Go- go back to your room honey.”

“Daddy,” I couldn't hear his singing. I couldn't stop crying. I knew, I knew.

“Honey, please, go- go back to sleep, Mommy is going to make sure everything's okay. Just, go to bed, I'll be right back.”

I couldn't sleep, hearing the sirens and seeing the lights along the wall. Hearing so many songs as the door opened down the hall and mom's voice drifting. Her song had never sounded so sad, but it didn't wail, not the way Daddy's had before-

Heart attack. It was instant. I knew, the whole time.

She'd done her best, but her song was so sad after that. I couldn't stay in the same room, I'd just start crying. “The strong ones keep going, and you've got your little one that still needs you,” one of mom's old friends said when they thought I couldn't hear.

She never showed it to me, not in any way, but her song... She wanted to stop singing, she wanted to go be with my father. We both ended up in therapy, I ended up on antidepressants, I knew I didn't need, and she ended up on some cocktail, she honestly probably didn't need. I tried them, I couldn't stand how mute the world turned. I threw them out every morning before school instead of taking them. Mom, mom had some issues at first, but she seemed better, or at least a bit happier. When she started zoning out hard once I reached middle school, there were times I had to shake her out of it. Most of the time those spells happened on and off about a month, her medication got 'adjusted' and life moved on.

I couldn't drive, mom definitely couldn't drive with the way she'd started to zone out more often, when I finally got to the age of getting my permit. I still had to take the stupid class on it, I just got written out of the driving portion.

School, I kept to myself in school. The singing would get so, droning, I couldn't even pay attention. Took until I was nearly graduated for them to even think of “ADHD”, I just shook my head. Threw out the paper they sent home for mom to check over, and just did my homework when I got home. My grades were decent, maybe not the 4.0 bullshit they were hoping for but I knew what the work was and how to do it. I just had to actually study at home on bad days. We lost 3 people my Senior year. When the teacher dropped, I knew it instantly. No one had a clue about why the panicked student bolted into our room, except me. Poor guy, aneurysm. Thought it was a heart attack at first, but I could have told them it was pointless trying to get his heart going. Never once did he start singing. Not even when the ambulance got in. I remember the second one, I didn't hear the song stop but, she was singing so loudly the last day she was at school... The last, was deemed job abandonment, they pulled a sub until they could find a replacement. I walked by the teacher's house after school. I never heard her song again after the last class I'd had with her. Took nearly a month before anyone checked the house. Stroke, apparently. She was a good teacher too, but I still can't remember her name.

Mom's singing was getting louder, at my graduation it seemed the loudest I'd ever heard.

She finally told me why it was so loud. Cancer... Her and my father only had one child because of how difficult her first and only full term pregnancy had been and how unlikely she was to have another. She'd had cysts on her ovaries when she was younger, but wanted so much to have a child, she and the doctors had brushed it off, thinking she'd just deal with them since they were small and basically harmless. Ovarian cancer, she'd been immediately taken to surgery the moment they'd found out. Gone through her treatments when I was so young, I don't even remember. It would explain why almost all our pictures of baby me had dad holding me. Poor mom, had so much to deal with... I told her I'd put off any more schooling, or do something online while we dealt with it. She'd smiled, patted my hand, hugged me, and just told me to keep going. She would be fine.

I began working within the month. I got lucky, landed some 'friend of a friend' gig working in a backroom. It was annoying, tedious data entry and record keeping file clerk bullshit but it paid, it was consistent, and they weren't too horrible on the days I had to call out or leave when mom got bad or needed help. At least, it was good, before the son took over. On my last day I just smiled at him and took a deep breath and listened to the too loud, too changing tone of his singing and didn't even offer a warning. He'd had a thing for powders; pills, cocaine, didn't matter to him... as long as he could get it up his nose. I didn't even offer him a warning. The place ended up shutting the doors less than a week later, overdose. I felt bad for the father, the brat had destroyed all chance of him enjoying his retirement. Burned too many bridges for him, lost too many allies while trying to keep his own paycheck padded.

At least I'd been able to save up and help mom out when she needed me during those years. It was a bit odd, going into college at 23 but I had enough saved to at least afford a Bachelor's while I looked for work. School mandated Freshmen to live on campus, welcome to my hell. Constant singing, loud and soft... So many times I'd tried when the singing grew so loud. So many times I had tried to help, sometimes the singing quieted, most times it didn't. It never seemed to help... It always happened-

My dorm mate had dropped out during second semester, at least the room was quiet after. In all truth, it had been a good thing. The room had gotten so loud from her singing. I smiled when I happened to see her again, calm humming the whole time we caught up. Even looking a bit embarrassed and flustered about leaving out of the blue. She'd made the right call for herself. Her song stayed calm, less sorrowful as we talked before saying our goodbyes and heading our separate ways, I was glad she'd found her way.

I had friends... well, classmates, dorm mates, people I could rely on for help with courses and studying and projects for class at least. I, yeah, I would call them friends. Not the long term ones really, the type that breeze through your life but you'd remember because the times they drug you back from a long stressed out week or day and help you relax or make it through econ when you just didn't get something. But you'd still remember them, even just in passing.

And, yeah, I made some mistakes. Well, yeah I guess it was a mistake- I just, you know those types of moments that you think you fucked up but then it turned out better than expected? I guess you could say that, yes, at the time it was a mistake, but now, it doesn't seem to have been.

I liked him, he was nice, supportive. The type of guy that always brought your spirit up even on his worst days. He was going through something, never found out what, he was singing so loud. I asked him to stay the night, he seemed... fragile. We ended up setting up blankets and some pillows on the floor for him. His singing calmed, but it was still so sorrowful. I ended up just curling up next to him and hugging him. One thing led to another... Yeah, I made some mistakes. I liked him, so, it wasn't a big one, but all the little ones piled up and turned into a bigger one.

It took me nearly a week to realize it. Don't lose count of important things, like birth control. Just, trust me. It took another two weeks to get in to be certain. Guess what can cause false positives? Being close to your period... I'd heard this around campus, even had people warn just 'give it a week' before going in. Had so much support. Gotten a few tearful lectures, a few screeching matches, a few debates nearly ended in clawing matches. I shut them all up, told them I'm making MY choice about it, and none of them could or would make it for me. Lost a few friends along the way... Bigoted fuckers, thanks for showing your colors. You didn't even know my choice, you just walked away and shunned me. Trying to buddy up when it was obvious what the choice I made was. Nah, you ain't shit to me anymore, move on.

Don't let anyone else ever make your choices for you. Don't ever let them try to force you into anything, cut them out of your life if they try.

I must have pissed off so many people once it was official. Frequent visits after we could see that it was for true a positive, that my choice was set in stone. The moment I heard that little fluttering, like a faint bird, but I could only tell them, “Something doesn't feel right...”, “Can we check on the heartbeat? I just- haven't been feeling any movement, you said I should soon and- I'm a little panicked about it.”

I was lucky enough to be at the end of my courses. I didn't have to go back to the school once I got so plump I had trouble turning when I went to sleep. Poor doctors, poor nurses. “New, single, mother,” was their excuse. I just wanted to make sure, I couldn't tell them why, I couldn't tell them what was making me so panicked. They'd probably commit me, or at least put me under watch if I told them the truth...

This time something was wrong, it wasn't just that constant worry in my head, I could actually feel it and see it. “I- I need help,” I couldn't tell if my shortness of breath was from panicking or another effect, “I'm 7 months pregnant, I woke up to bleeding and severe pain. I can't, it hurts too much to move. I can't get to the door. I'm alone.” The dispatcher was calm, helped me to stay calm, but I couldn't get the tightness in my chest or the ability to breathe under control. “I'm going to pass out, I can't calm down,” was the last warning I could give.

Everything was such a blur after that, I just remember moving around and voices... I couldn't even respond when they were asking me things. Just, bright lights and flashes, then, I finally heard you. For the first time, I heard your cry and your singing. It was so, so beautiful.

Some choose to stay, others don't, but- you only get the choice once. I, I won't haunt you little one, but, you still have family here. Mom, she was recovering well after they deemed her to be in remission, she's no doubt on her way even now. You'd have to ask her some day, what her gift is, I- I could never bring myself to ask. Rumor has it, you have a few old Greats wondering our old house too, if you ever get lonely. I hear one is a chatty bastard, if you ever take German, he's your man.

It seems our time is up. The nurse is coming to take you, probably for a clean up and change and feeding. Do us both a favor? Just, be careful, little one. I- I can't stand the thought of staying, and just, watching, just watching everything going on in your life, knowing that even after you're gone I would remain.

“_Have you made your decision?”_

“_Yes.”_


End file.
